


your lonely orbit (why don't we collide the spaces that divide us)

by ajroosevelt



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Abby Needs a Hug, Abby and Ellie Deserve to Retire, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Gay Panic, Hurt/Comfort, I have a lot of feelings about Abby Anderson, Lev Needs His Moms, Owen is mentioned in passing but it's gon be gayyy y'all, Redemption, Slow Burn, ellie needs a hug, small amounts of character study
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:41:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25186567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajroosevelt/pseuds/ajroosevelt
Summary: Canon compliant until the final scene at the Pillars.---------------------------------------------------"She wanted to claw the poisonous hatred that had been festering for so long right out of her, wanted to bleed and bleed and bleed it all out until she was free again. It seemed insurmountable. It seemed inevitable."Or, in which only one boat leaves the blood stained beaches of Santa Barbara.
Relationships: Abby & Ellie (The Last of Us), Abby & Lev (The Last of Us), Abby/Ellie (The Last of Us), Ellie & Lev (The Last of Us), Past Dina/Ellie
Comments: 47
Kudos: 331





	1. in any universe you are my dark star

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. Long have I lurked on AO3 but this is my first work, and boy howdy what a crack concept it is. I recognize that Abby is a very polarizing character, and that Part II as a whole is a very polarizing game, but I have A Lot of feelings and this is the manifestation of those feelings and my inability to cope with the game's ending. I love Dina and I love her relationship with Ellie, but this is something I just can't get out of my head.  
> (It's also definitely worth noting how I was inspired by Tales from the Tall Grass and BetweenTownleys' extremely accurate tag of "Abby is a murder dad" and well, I think Ellie is a murder mom, so here we go.)

When fighting with a blade, as the victim bleeds more and more from each cut they suffer, it isn’t uncommon for the weapon to become so slippery from their blood that the attacker loses their grip and cuts themselves in the process of cutting another. Pain for pain, blood for blood. It’s a simple enough mistake made by novices, but Ellie is a master with a blade. She’s been wounded countless times, but never by her own hands, resolute and unhesitant as they always were.

But as she stood hunched and battered on the sandy beaches of Santa Barbara, staring at the withered and broken woman who had consumed and haunted her for an eternity, Ellie realized she was bloodier than she’d ever been, and hesitant in a way she never was.

There was gunfire and screams in the distance that urged a hasty exit, but Ellie barely registered them. It was as if the moment were suspended indefinitely in time.

Abby was a shell of what she had been when they’d last crossed paths. With her shrunken in frame littered with bruises, face gaunt, and hair cut raggedly short, she looked as awful as Ellie felt. Still, the redhead noticed with a sort of startling respect as the former Wolf hefted the boy she had frantically cut down into her arms, there was a strength in her that neither the Rattlers or even Ellie herself had managed to take away.

Exhausted green eyes watched idly as Abby jerked her chin towards the ocean, her voice gravelly in a way that she didn’t remember it being before. Ellie followed dutifully, bleeding and bleeding and bleeding from the years of wounds she had inflicted on both of them, knowing and unknowing. The pounding of the waves rung in her ears; there was a whirlwind of chaos rattling around her skull and the beating of her heart seemed so brutal she thought it might burst.

_Abby Abby Abby._

Abby was gentle, so breathtakingly gentle for someone whose hands were capable of such cruelty, as she lowered the boy into the boat. She seemed to murmur soft assurances to him, though what exactly they were, the smaller girl could not say. Whatever the blonde told him must have given him some sort of comfort, for he only gave a short wheeze of breath as he was set into the vessel, the dirt on his cheeks brushed lightly off by the woman tending to him. Ellie was struck harder by her tenderness in that moment than by any of the punches Abby had landed on her in the past.

It reminded her of Joel. _Abby_ reminded her of Joel.

His brutality had been balanced by his protectiveness, his selfishness by his love; Ellie might not have believed she mattered after the disastrous hospital incident at Salt Lake, but she knew now that she had mattered to Joel, and despite it all, he had mattered to her. She had lorded his sins over him for so long, righteous and untainted, because he had so carefully shielded her. Joel had taken blow after blow of the poison the world had thrown at them, had breathed it into his lungs the same way she breathed in spores, so that she could live without the weight of it in her blood – so she _could_ be righteous and untainted. His hands were stained red well before her, yes, but they had plunged themselves again and again into the filth to keep her as clean as possible. He had lived to save her; he had died to save her. He had given everything of himself for her.

Ellie realized with a shuddering breath as she surveyed Abby’s broad back, littered with scars faded and fresh, some of which she had inflicted herself, that maybe her last act of devotion to Joel had also been one of defiance: maybe she had gone so long without the poison he fielded unyieldingly that she had taken the first hit of it both _for_ him and to _spite_ him. She’d rejected his gift of purity, and for what? Pain, and an infection so much worse than the Cordyceps - one that had, for all intents and purposes, destroyed who she had been, who he had quite literally loved to death.

_He had died - No._

_He had **lived** to save her. _

_Joel wanted Ellie alive, not just breathing but **alive**._

Ellie couldn’t keep killing what Joel had lived to save.

Her mouth dry as cotton, she swallowed the lump in her throat and hoarsely called out to the blonde, resolved to finally put an end the bitter cycle that had calcified in her mind.

“I came here to kill you.”

Immediately, Abby stiffened, turning her chin over her shoulder with gleaming desperation in her eyes as she glanced back at the boy in the boat, “I’m not going to fight you.”

Despite the horror she had to have endured the past few months, Ellie knew that if Abby _wanted_ to fight her, she could very well still seriously injure or kill her. Yet, once again, she refused to do so. Somewhere along the line, her heart stopped being _in_ it, and Ellie wondered now if her own heart was willing to continue beating for a cause that had expired long ago. In the instant that it took to survey the blonde’s distressed features, she understood that the Abby she had wanted to kill had ultimately died a long time ago, and the Ellie she had been was just as dead. Everyone else had certainly left, too; they were all that remained, the last figures of lives that had evaporated into the wind.

The waves sloshed at the redhead’s knees, embedding salt and sand into her filthy wounds. She hated the beach. She hated the ocean. She hated every mistake she’d made in the last two years that had anchored itself around her neck and settled leaden in her bones. Her hands clenched briefly around the straps of the backpack she wore before she sighed, heavy and deep.

“I’m so tired. I don’t think I can fight anymore, Abby,” she breathed out lowly, eyes blinking agitatedly, though if the salt in them was from her own tears or the ocean, she couldn’t say. The makeshift stitches she’d sewn into her skin had long since ripped open, and the red that was blossoming on her shirt was spreading across her stomach, sticky and hot.

She was so frustrated and so worn she wasn’t sure if she should scream or cry; she wanted to claw the poisonous hatred that had been festering for so long right out of her, wanted to bleed and bleed and bleed it all out until she was free again. It seemed insurmountable. It seemed inevitable. She was never made to house such toxicity. Her hands were so stained with sin, and maybe they would never truly be clean again after all she had done, but she could try, couldn’t she? She had no choice but to try.

Ellie inhaled deeply, stepping slowly, purposefully towards the woman who had destroyed her life and whose life she had destroyed in turn. Abby surveyed her warily, though she didn’t flinch as the smaller woman drew closer. Her blue eyes widened in surprise as the redhead slowly slipped off her bag and tentatively held it out to the former Wolf soldier. It was almost comical how large they grew, round as saucers and bursting with moonlight, and despite herself Ellie let out a short, pained snort of fond laughter before sobering.

“Here, take it,” she gestured, not unkindly. “You and the kid are going to need it.”

The bag dangled limply in the air between them, the redhead’s thin arm quivering underneath its heavy weight. It wasn’t the most conventional of olive branches, of course, but it was a lifeline whose significance couldn’t be misunderstood. Ellie was giving up her supplies, but more than that. She was giving up everything else: her revenge, the fight, and the fury that she’d carried, alone and unnecessarily, for years.

There was a peace in that moment, an instant, airy tranquility sliding into her soul like a summer breeze. It was the warmth of Joel’s smile, the twang of a song long practiced and finally mastered; it was the sun blazing orange and pink as it set over a field, the wind in her hair as she galloped on a horse. It was the release of the heaviest burden she had ever borne.

Abby seemed dazed, unsure. She stood blinking and unmoving before a particularly loud explosion from off in the distance seemed to break her from her reverie. Slowly, a large, shaking palm reached out and tentatively grasped a strap to the bag.

They stood there a moment, tethered together by the backpack, motionless and silent. Ellie watched as a myriad of emotions flashed across the blonde’s face, idly noting how expressive she was when her features weren’t contorted in rage; first there was confusion, then apprehension, then something else she simply couldn’t identify. Abby’s brows drew together, and she seemed to clench her jaw before pressing her chapped, dusty lips in a firm line.

When she spoke, it was sudden and rushed out in one breathless exclamation that took them both by surprise.

“You should come with us,” she blurted, taking a step forward with her hand still clutching the bag. “I know this is all a fucking mess, but we can do this, we can figure this out!”

Ellie scoffed in disbelief, shaking her head lightly as if she hadn’t heard correctly.

“You can’t be serious. Why would you even- there’s no way. You can’t be serious,” her laugh was hollow, but Abby’s blue eyes were shining so earnestly that her incredulity wilted in the air. She swallowed the knot that was hardening in the base of her throat as the taller woman took another step forward, putting them nearly toe to toe.

“I am. Please. _Please,_ Ellie. Come with us.”

Maybe it was the soft plea in her voice, or maybe it was the way she called her name, or maybe it was just some sort of pain induced delirium and fear of being once again left alone, but Ellie chewed her lip and considered for only a moment before slowly nodding and murmuring her low agreement.

The relief that washed over Abby’s face was shocking, given every hurt they had inflicted on each other, but even more shocking was how it immediately warmed her. Abby gave a small, hesitant smile before gently dropping the bag back into Ellie’s hands and turning to clamber into the boat. She looked questioningly back at the smaller girl, but she paused for only a moment before inhaling deeply and following.

As Abby started the boat that would soon take them far away from the horrors of that bloody Santa Barbara beach, Ellie began slowly divesting her bag of health kits and food to divide among the three of them. And if each noticed the other’s shoulders sag at ease? They didn’t mention it.


	2. hold on to me, 'cause i'm a little unsteady

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. I'm sorry this one is shorter than the last chapter, but I really wanted to get it out today (Friday). I'm trying to establish a schedule where I release a new chapter weekly, but I was a little pressed for time to hit the deadline this week, so this one's less beefy than I originally planned. I WILL, however, just be moving the unwritten parts of chapter 2 into chapter 3, so the next update will be longer to compensate. Thanks for your patience and all your kind words and reviews!

The roaring of the boat’s aged motor was angry and loud as it begrudgingly propelled them through the sloshing waves of the Pacific, but it somehow wasn’t nearly enough to drown out the whirlwind of thoughts wreaking havoc in Abby Anderson’s head. Part of her wondered if this was another fever dream, something fabricated by a delusional, decaying mind that had spent too long baking in the sun. It hardly seemed real that the small, redheaded girl from Jackson could have tracked Abby and Lev all the way to Santa Barbara, infiltrated and then demolished the Rattler base, and then _freed_ and _joined_ them. Yet there they were, sitting in silent introspection in the boat as Lev lay unconscious between them.

The blonde shook her head lightly and rubbed her wrists, raw from the biting rope she’d been hung from at the Pillars – a grisly reminder that everything was, in fact, real. Ellie, who had travelled across the country twice now to kill her, had saved her. Though, Abby realized with mild alarm, it was apparent it had cost her much. Crusty maroon and brown painted her body in splotches and spatter. While some of it was undoubtedly dried Rattler blood, a great deal was also her own, if the blooming patch of new, vibrant crimson on her side was any indication. Ellie had always been small, slim and sinewy and scarred, but now she was entirely shrunken; she seemed as much a prisoner of war as Abby and Lev had been.

“You look like a skeleton,” the blonde muttered to herself, frowning as she watched the other girl dig through her bag and then sharply twist, grimacing and fisting at her side. Though Abby thought she had spoken lowly enough to not be heard, she realized in horror that she’d miscalculated her volume as Ellie snorted at her.

“Oh gee, thanks. That’s exactly what every girl dreams of hearing,” she smirked, sharp green eyes glancing over in amusement.

Abby’s mouth dropped open and she hurriedly stumbled to correct herself.

“I’m sorry. It’s just- it’s just that you look different, is all. I don’t remember you like this.”

“Yeah, well, I guess a lot’s changed with us,” she shrugged and sighed absently, turning back to continue rummaging through her belongings. Whatever it was she was looking for, she seemed suddenly to find it. “Aha! There you are, fucker.”

The blonde’s brows shot upwards toward her ragged hairline, and at the same time she breathed out a laugh she winced in pain from the agitation of pinching the sunburnt skin on her forehead. When she opened her eyes, she saw the smaller girl shifting a small package between her palms before she looked up from it to meet Abby’s inquisitive gaze.

“Do you like beef jerky?”

Abby blinked.

“Uh, yeah?”

“Me too,” Ellie nodded, opening the bag and taking a piece out to grip in her teeth before resealing it. “Think fast.”

Suddenly, she tossed the package at Abby, who reflexively snatched it with both hands and brought it close to her chest without thought.

“Oh wow,” she startled, looking down at the surprisingly hefty bag she held clenched. Her wide blue eyes looked questioningly at the other girl, who only chewed at her own piece and wordlessly gestured for Abby to help herself.

The former wolf obliged, fingers reaching in for the first bit of morsel she’d have in days. The jerky was tough, but she could have cried for how good it felt to have something slide down her throat and into her empty and gnarled stomach.

She was exhausted, withered, and bewildered at the course her life had taken just a few short hours ago, but she was still alive, and she was grateful.

“Thank you,” Abby spoke around another mouthful of dehydrated beef, her stiff body loosening slightly as she heard Ellie’s quiet chuckle.

“No problem. Save some for the kid, why don’t you,” the redhead laughed good-naturedly, nodding towards the boy that had become like family to the blonde.

They had gone through so much together – too much together, really. She hated how cruel the world had been to someone who was so young and undeserving; she hated how she couldn’t protect him from it. Lev had endured the Rattlers’ horror alongside her, and no matter how awful things had gotten, he had never blamed her for their capture, not like she had blamed herself. It was almost shameful how much stronger he had been than her – or, it would have been, if she were still the girl who would find any reason to hate herself. It was supposed to be her job to take care of him, to shield him, and she did, but despite the many times she rescued him, she could never articulate how much he had rescued her – even, perhaps especially, from herself.

Abby looked fondly at him, absentmindedly closing and setting down the food next to his head. He was worse for wear, that was for sure, but she knew that he was going to be ok now that they were out of that hellhole. He was going to have questions, _so_ many questions about just _how_ they got out of that hellhole and how _exactly_ the girl he had once seen the blonde nearly beat to death suddenly ended up beside them, giving them food and decidedly, _not_ killing them.

“Yeah, you’re right. He’s going to be starving when he wakes up.”

“Of course. A growing boy needs plenty.”

They shared a quick glance and tentative smiles, the very beginning of sunrise glancing off their teeth and the salty ocean mist spraying into their eyes. Abby gently broke the silence that had filled the space between them, voice quiet and sincere.

“Thank you, Ellie.”

The Jackson girl palmed her bloody side and drew her brows together as she swallowed almost nervously, “You already said that.”

“For the food, yeah. But, thank you for letting us go…and for giving him a chance.”

They both knew that “giving him a chance” meant more than freeing Lev from the Rattlers; it meant sticking by them with the unspoken agreement to protect him.

Ellie nodded slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. He seems like a good kid.”

The blonde smiled at her, “He is. I wish we could let him sleep more, but we should probably wake him up now. Better to have three sets of eyes when we dock.”

“Oh shit, are we already about to hit land?” she asked, before whipping her head away from Abby and confirming for herself. “Oh shit, we’re about to hit land.”

The pastel pink and blazing orange of the sunrise was starting to seep through the clouds, warmly kissing their faces and illuminating the bay before their little creaky vessel. Overhead, seagulls were beginning to take flight from towering palms, cawing and honking at each other as they glided through the air. The pale sand that had once been so distant to her eyes was getting larger and closer, and Abby grinned, tired but relieved.

“Land ho!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to shoot me a message or scroll through my tumblr @theyearninghours for more deranged and gay content. Thanks for reading, and as always, reviews are appreciated!


	3. my memory could be erased, but i'd still be thinking about your face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. So this is technically a Friday that I'm updating on....just like a month late? I'm so sorry. So much happened recently. I got sick, some loved ones got sick, and then classes started again just to add some extra fun to the mix. I'm still churning out ideas for this piece like crazy, it's just a matter of organizing them and typing it up now in a way that I deem semi-worthy of you guys. Anyways, thank you for reading, and for sticking along if you've been here waiting for a while.

It would have been comical how quickly the boy startled awake at Abby’s declaration, scrambling up before tripping to the bottom of the boat, if his eyes weren’t alight with terror as they fell on Ellie.

Immediately, he began hollering, voice strained and cracking, for Abby, lunging to grip at her ratty shirt and yank her further away from the other girl. Ellie could only smile sheepishly as Abby stumbled forward, arms flailing gracelessly to keep from collapsing on top of him.

“ _Lev_! It’s okay! It’s okay, she’s with us!” Abby leaned down to grab his slim shoulders, face inches away from his own. The boy’s dark eyes flitted back and forth between Abby’s light, earnest ones, and Ellie, who had leaned away from them, hands placed palm up in front of her red stained chest.

Ellie noted idly as he scrutinized her how fair his features were; even gaunt and dirty, there was a delicate dignity in his high cheekbones and the slim slope of his nose. The wayward thought entered her mind to ask if he would mind if she sketched him.

Sensing his continued shock, Abby continued gently, “She’s the one who cut us down.”

The boy – Lev, if Ellie had heard correctly – blinked slowly and seemed to contemplate the gravity of the words before relaxing, his rigid body sagging forward into Abby’s hold.

The blonde lurched forward to gather him in a proper embrace, and the moment felt so quiet and intimate that Ellie had to look away. They began speaking in fast, hushed tones, but the redhead chose not to listen in. Decidedly turning her head towards the shoreline they were about to wash up on, she was taken by a brief and instant wistfulness. For a moment, only for a moment, her breath caught and she could almost feel the ghostly arms of Joel wrapped around her, could almost smell the leather of his coat and the coffee on his breath. Maybe it should have hurt to remember it, and maybe for so long it had been too painful to even think of, but for the first time since his death, it made her feel almost warm.

Behind her, someone cleared their throat and broke her from her reverie.

“Ellie, this is Lev. Lev, this is Ellie,” Abby introduced nervously, moving to the side so that the two could see each other fully without her obstruction.

Ellie gave an awkward wave, “Hi. It’s good to meet you.”

“Are you going to try to kill us again?” Lev was both sharp and blunt, and Ellie smiled despite herself, as impressed with the unwavering stare he turned upon her as she was amused at the wince she saw Abby give in the corner of her eye.

She met his scrutinizing gaze and shook her head lightly at him, “No.”

“Why not?”

Abby opened her mouth to interject, but Ellie stopped her with a dismissive wave.

“It’s a fair question,” she grinned and shrugged at the blonde before sucking in a deep breath and turning back to the boy, “I…lost someone important to me. I was _angry_. It made me want to hurt Abby the way I was hurting. I thought if I did, I would feel better. But hurting her won’t bring who I lost back.”

“Are you still angry?”

Ellie looked to Abby, green eyes catching blues staring intently and swallowed.

“Not anymore.”

Lev regarded the Jackson girl carefully and she found herself wondering how deeply his dark gaze could see into her. Whatever it was he was looking for, she didn’t seem to disappoint, and he gave her a quick nod of approval, “Okay.”

Both girls breathed a collective sigh of relief and he continued quietly with a small smile, “…it’s good to meet you, too.”

The redhead gave him a soft grin and went to offer the boy some of the jerky from earlier but was distracted by Abby as she loudly cut the motor of the boat.

“Alright, we’re close enough to walk it up. I don’t want to risk the sound of the motor drawing in any infected.”

The smaller occupants of the boat nodded their agreement and followed the tall blonde as she hopped out of the boat and into the ocean, Ellie hissing in pain as soon as the salt water splashed into her wound. Immediately, Lev and Abby shot her concerned looks, but she shook her head at them with a muttered an assurance that she was fine. Still, she thought as they pursed their lips and furrowed their brows, it was nice to feel the effects of another person’s concern. After Joel and Tommy and _Dina_ , after all the bridges she had burned, she hadn’t thought she’d ever have someone’s concern again, much less that of two people she had so viciously clashed with in the past. For the first time in what seemed like forever, she allowed herself to hope; Ellie allowed herself to believe that _maybe_ if she devoted herself to doing good and helping them, one day she could deserve that kind of care again.

So, determinedly with one hand on her wound and another on the vessel, together the three guided the boat towards the beach until they began to feel the shifting ground beneath their feet firm and steady. As they drug the boat onto the sand, Ellie began surveying the area they had landed in.

Though it was still a beach and Ellie loathed them, she had to admit they could have ended up in worse places. There didn’t seem to be any immediate infected roaming around, which naturally endeared her to the location, and the lack of any noise which could be attributed to human settlement was promising. There was a silky expanse of light sand stretching from the shoreline to a string of large houses spaced distantly apart from each other with varying degrees of green overgrowth burgeoning between them.

She was so caught up in scanning for threats that she didn’t notice her one-time _biggest_ threat approach her, Lev following closely behind her. “How bad is your wound?”

Ellie blinked and subconsciously went to cover her side with her palm before recovering and forcing her hand down in a clenched fist, “I’ve had worse.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Abby scoffed and shook her head incredulously, her brows shooting toward her ragged hairline.

The redhead’s first instinct was to bristle and snap about how much worse off she’d been after _Abby had ambushed her at the theatre_ , but as she went to glare at the blonde and sound off, she saw only tired, patient blue eyes determinedly meeting her own and felt herself deflate.

“I ripped my stitches on the way to the beach,” she sighed, noticing Abby relax at her onset of her admission, but tense as she finished. “I need to stitch it up again, but since sand has the annoying habit of getting _everywhere_ it’s not going to get done now. I was being serious; this isn’t the worst that’s happened to me. I can make it until we get off this stupid beach.”

“Right,” Abby nodded grimly, “Let’s see if we can get into one of those houses. There might still be some sand, but anything’s better than this.”

The nearest house, roof caved in and walls bowing down with it, was immediately barred from being their new HQ. The next two closest to the shoreline were also ruled out, both burnt half to the ground, so a fourth house, slightly further away and with no automatic structural disqualifications, was deemed their best bet.

As the trio neared the steps to the big white house’s porch, each quieting their breathing and ducking to avoid alerting any infected that could be inside, Ellie instinctively reached for her silenced pistol and came to a sudden stop.

To her side, Abby halted in response, glancing down to her wound with brows raised as if questioning if Ellie really _could_ wait to treat herself.

The redhead rolled her eyes but gestured for the blonde to come closer to her. Behind them, Lev approached silently. Ellie knelt and slipped off her bag as she had done countless times before, both of her ragged companions watching her curiously. Gently, she coaxed the bow she had out of its holster and grabbed the cluster of arrows sticking out of her zipper before pivoting on her feet and raising both up in offering to Lev.

He blinked at her in confusion and made no move to claim them.

“You had a bow the last time I saw you. I bet you could probably make better use of this than me right now. Go ahead, take it,” she whispered lowly, smiling encouragingly at him as he hesitantly grabbed the bow.

Lev tested the draw of the weapon, inspecting it with obvious experience, and Abby watched proudly as he cracked a small smile in thanks. Ellie grinned back at him and rose to her feet. With practiced ease, she slipped her shotgun into her hands and slowly walked to the blonde who looked at her in disbelief.

Running a palm down its heavily modified barrel, she took a deep breath before exhaling in a soft puff and presenting the gun to the other girl who went to take it but stopped herself short.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Ellie nodded, but at Abby’s continued hesitance, she shrugged, a devilish glint in her eye as she looked up at the blonde, “That is, if you can _handle_ the kick. I’ve done a lot of work on this bad girl. She might just blow you away.”

Immediately Abby scoffed indignantly and snatched the gun out of Ellie’s hands, reacting exactly as the other girl wanted.

“Oh, I can handle it. I’m still bigger than you, you know.”

Ellie’s brows raised, unimpressed.

“If anything, you probably had to modify this thing to do _less damage_ and accommodate for your _tiny_ body.”

At that, Ellie’s jaw dropped, and she clutched her hand to her heart dramatically, “You doubt my workmanship? I am _offended._ That gun could punch a hole in a tank.”

Abby tutted as she critically eyed the weapon, “Sure, sure. Guess we’ll find out soon enough. I don’t see any papier-mache tanks around, though.”

“If we stand out here any longer you both will get sunburnt,” Lev cut in, having seen Ellie open her mouth to retort in what would have started an endless back and forth.

The blonde shot him a betrayed look but barked out a hushed laugh as Ellie began frantically scanning her pale skin for the onset of a sunburn. Upon confirming that she had yet to be blemished, she scowled at the two amused Seattleites before huffing and shaking her head.

“Point made. Let’s go.”

As the three of them crept up to the beach house’s front door, each instinctively taking on different viewpoints to cover the others’, the momentousness of the situation fully hit Ellie. Here she was, pale skin and all on a fucking _beach_ , seriously injured and exhausted, with her back to _Abby_ and a _Scar_ who she had _given her own weapons._ Had she not been about to clear a house potentially full of hearing sensitive infected, she would have laughed out loud at the absolute absurdity of it all.

If someone, anyone, even _Dina_ had told her a year ago, hell, a month ago, that she would be in this position now, she might’ve decked them in the face. Firefly, Wolf Abby, with _Ellie’s shotgun_ , covering her flank, _protecting_ her? Lev, the Scar boy who had shot Dina with a bow, now armed with _Ellie’s bow,_ drawn opposite of her direction? Ellie, herself, _arming_ the people she had tried to kill and who had tried to kill her? It was ridiculous. It was unbelievable.

What was so unbelievable about the whole situation was how believable it was.

They were at the edge of the world, and she had crossed land and sea to destroy the girl to her side, who’s guard was up, but not to Ellie. It would be so easy to raise her own gun and shoot Abby; as soon as the blonde’s body dropped, she could take out the boy before he could let loose an arrow on her - be done with it all. Still, as easy as it would have been to kill them, she knew she wouldn’t, knew she couldn’t. Ellie knew in that moment that she didn’t _want_ to be done with it all, not if this next part of _all_ meant solid bodies, trusting her, trusting them, bound by some kind of ridiculous cosmic tie so much stronger than a sensible, earthly one.

She was with a Wolf and a Scar and she was ripped open and bleeding, but somehow this day wasn’t the worst day she had ever had.

She was with a Wolf and a Scar who could kill her in an instant, who she could kill in an instant, but no one was dead, no one was dying, and no one was fighting.

No, this really wasn’t the worst day Ellie had ever had.

Despite not being accustomed to fighting at each other’s back, despite being ragged and injured and exhausted, the trio entered and cleared the beach house with mechanical, methodical precision, with Abby automatically taking point and Lev and Ellie assuming her flanks. Thankfully, there had been no infected inside. In fact, Ellie mused, the house was rather pristine for a pre-outbreak structure, no doubt due to the barricade that had been put in place at the front door and the boarded up windows they had needed to rip off to enter.

The house was as large inside as the outside had suggested, with a winding wooden staircase leading to an upper floor that must have gleamed proudly many years ago. The main floor was dusty and dark, save the light streaming in from their improvised entrance, with a laundry nook, a large, furnished living room and what looked to be a mostly intact – save for rusted appliances – kitchen. While there had been no infected in the house, in one of the four rooms on the upper floor there _had_ been two long since decayed skeletons, a sad note nearby detailing their demise.

Not one week after the outbreak had hit, one of the elderly women who had lived in the home had suffered a stroke and died; the other, devastated by the first’s passing and the worsening condition of the world, had taken her own life the next day, a large caliber revolver lying limp near her bony hand.

Frowning, Ellie handed the note to Abby, who grimaced and shoved it in her pocket before Lev could ask what they had been reading. Hurriedly grabbing the pistol and shoving it in the blonde’s hand before the boy could notice, the redhead quickly ushered them out of the room to clear the rest of the house.

Her first thought had been to get Lev away from the grisly scene, though logically she knew he had to have experienced situations just as bad, if not worse, growing up in this world.

Her second thought had been that yet again she had handed Abby a loaded gun before turning her back on the blonde, leaving her again exposed to whatever the other girl chose to do.

Her third thought was that as easily as Abby had taken the gun, she had given it – smoothly, reflexively, assuredly. Without question, without hesitation. And with that realization, she shook her head free of whatever doubt or incredulity she might have had at her third thought and kept moving, noticeably without being shot in the back, or any other part of her body.

The three haggard survivors breathed a collective sigh of relief as they descended the stairs back onto the first floor. Ellie, for her part, finally seemed to burn off the last of her adrenaline, and it seemed that as soon as she had registered her relative safety, all of her pain seemed to come screaming foremost in her mind. Sagging, she grunted lightly, and immediately the worried and equally exhausted eyes of Lev and Abby were on her, widening as they remembered her condition.

It was Abby who reacted first.

“Come on, let’s get you to that couch and see what we’re dealing with.”

Ellie allowed herself to be escorted to the larger of the sofas in the living room, dusty but otherwise soft and intact, and after disarming, lowered herself onto the cushions. Abby and Lev hovered nearby as she rummaged through her bag for her first aid supplies, unsure of what to do. Though they seemed unwilling to crowd her, they seemed unwilling to leave her either.

“It’s okay, guys. You don’t have to stay here and watch. I can do this myself,” Ellie assured as she grabbed one of her kits. “I know you’re hurt and exhausted, too.”

At her words, Abby tensed and furrowed her brow, but Lev relaxed slightly, sinking down onto the smaller couch opposite of hers, though she expected him to go stake his claim to one of the well-kept bedrooms upstairs. His dark, steady eyes kept fluttering at her, obviously trying to fight sleep, but his adrenaline must also have worn off quickly because they shuttered closed before she could even work the hem of her shirt over her bruised ribs. It wasn’t lost on her what an act of trust that was, to fall asleep in front of her, but she was interrupted from her line of thought by the burning pain that came from peeling the fabric of her shirt from the jagged edges of her wound.

Involuntarily, she hissed, and from her peripheral she saw Abby’s blue eyes swiftly assess her injury before stepping up to her. “Alright, I know you said you can handle this, but you look like you’re about to pass out. Will you let me help you a little?”

As she was about to begin cleaning her wound, Ellie’s hands stilled, and she looked up at the blonde who was so cautiously approaching as if not to startle or frighten her. Swiped her tongue quickly over her chapped lips to moisten them, she looked curiously at Abby.

“Uh. You know how to handle something like this?”

The blonde nodded simply, and Ellie felt her arms fall limply at her sides, seemingly without much consideration. Blinking slowly at the wolf, she sighed. “Okay. Okay, if you want to… I’d appreciate your help.”

Immediately, Abby stooped to her knees in front of Ellie and grabbed the first aid kit. Quickly, she went to clean the injury, but halted before she actually made contact with Ellie’s skin. Blue eyes sought green and silently asked for permission as her hands hovered idly over the redhead’s bloody abdomen. Swallowing harshly, and Ellie met Abby’s and nodded, giving her consent. As soon as she had, Abby began working.

Though the wound itself was painful, Abby’s touch was soft and gentle, so inconsistent to Ellie with her large, powerful frame. The blonde was diligent in her ministrations but did them so lightly and quickly that Ellie knew she had either become expertly experienced in patching up wounds in the field, or that she had been properly trained. Again, it seemed wild and strange that such a strong, fierce fighter could be such a tender healer; it just didn’t seem like the two drastically different personalities could exist in the same body. The incongruity intrigued and distracted her, especially as Abby warned her about the oncoming hard part and began to remove her shoddily done, ripped stitches before starting her own careful and precise suturing.

“Where did you learn how to do this so well?”

She surprised herself by her question, not even realizing she had spoken it aloud until Abby’s movements on her wound hesitated. After brief pause, she glanced up swiftly at Ellie before clearing her throat and resuming her motions. “My dad was a doctor. Actually, he was a surgeon, but he stitched people up all the time. I’m not anywhere near as good as he was, but I did learn a little bit from him. Some terminology, some conditions, and some practical stuff like this.”

It was in the moment of silence that followed, as Abby finally finished closing and dressing her wound that what the blonde said fully registered to Ellie.

Abby’s dad was a doctor. Was, past tense, meaning _dead_. Abby who was a Firefly from Salt Lake Hospital had a _dad_ who was a _doctor_ who was _dead_. Abby who sought Joel out _specifically_ for revenge.

Ellie’s mind might have been hazy from the pain and blood loss, the exhaustion and hunger, or the alcohol she had chugged to numb herself from the stitches, but it still made the connection.

Abby’s dad had been her doctor, and Joel had killed him to protect her from him.

“Your dad was-”

“Dr. Jerry Anderson,” she smiled softly, sadly, serenely, “And I have to say, I think he would be pretty proud of my work here. Now, let’s get that bite cleaned up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALSO while I was gone I created a Spotify playlist that goes along to this story, particularly to Ellie and Abby and how I plan on evolving their dynamic. If you're interested in it, let me know!


	4. you wanna find peace of mind, looking for the answer

If there was one good thing that came from her time at the Pillars, Abby thought it had to have been clarity.

She had always been strong. Physically and mentally, she was a bulwark that couldn’t be brought down, and everyone around her knew it. She was as strong as she was stubborn, as stubborn as she was capable, and as capable as she was determined. Abby Anderson could do anything, do it well, and do it without help, but the one thing she had never been able to do was find peace.

She thought she would find it as she stole the last breath out of Joel Miller’s body, but she hadn’t.

Then, she thought she would find it as she beat her fist against Ellie’s face in the theatre, for Owen and Mel and all the others that had been killed, but she hadn’t.

Next, she thought she would find peace when she found the Fireflies with Lev, and perhaps she would have, if she had ever gotten the chance, but she hadn’t.

Ironically, it was there at the Pillars, as she hung helpless and left for dead, that she finally found peace.

The sun had seared away so much of what she had been, but it had also shed light on the things that she had never seen before. Abby was still strong, still stubborn, but for the first time in years her vision wasn’t clouded by tainted and twisted hope. All of her hopes - to kill Joel, or Scars, or Ellie, or find the Fireflies – had been born from anger or loss, but the salt and sand had scrubbed her raw, scrubbed away the filth of her rage and grief until she was clean. There was suffering at the Pillars, undoubtedly so, but as the sun rose to scorch her again on what she was sure would be her last day, the peace she had chased for so long settled into her tired bones.

It was fitting then, that as she’d accepted her own death, accepted all the events that had led to it, that the immune girl from Jackson who had taken so much from her would give her back the most valuable thing: life, hers and Lev’s.

Broken down bit by bit in Santa Barbara, Abby felt like she’d been reborn.

So as she felt the smaller girl tense under her hands at the mention of her father, Abby made sure to continue her aid without further hesitation, hoping the redhead would take her casual air in stride and know that Abby held no resentment towards her. Not for her father, nor even for the friends Ellie had killed, the Jackson girl’s own words flashing in her mind.

_Not anymore._

“It’s so crazy to see a bite up close like this. Well, to see a bite and reach for antiseptic and not a gun, you know?” Abby spoke softly, breaking the heavy silence that had expanded between them, but mindful of Lev sleeping nearby.

Ellie shuddered out a quiet laugh as she glanced down at Abby cleaning her wound.

“It’s kind of new to me too, actually. I’m usually pretty good at avoiding getting bit.”

Abby quirked a brow and smirked, “Right. You’re only what, 0 for 2? Of course, that’s me assuming this is only the _second_ time you’ve been an infected’s chew toy.”

The offended look that crossed Ellie’s face was strangely charming and endearing. Playful indignance wasn’t something the blonde had seen in a long time, nor was it something she thought she’d ever see again, so for it to be worn by her old enemy was both jarring and warming in equal measure. As battered and rough as the redhead had become, it made her seem younger, softer.

Abby thought younger and softer suited her.

“I’ll have you know this _is_ only the second time. In my defense, it has a cool story behind it. I was a real badass.”

“Oh, well now I’m invested.”

“It all started long, long ago - _like a couple of hours ago_ \- when our hero - _that’s me, by the way_ \- was battling assholes and infected across the cursed Santa Barbara landscape trying to find the damsel in distress – _that’s you, by the way_.”

“ _Right_ , damsel. Got it,” Abby drawled as she finished patching Ellie’s bite up. It seemed only natural, so oddly natural, for Ellie to grab the first aid kit and gesture to the wounds littering the blonde’s shoulders and back, a wordless offer of aid that Abby assented to with a nod. Ellie quickly set to work, surprisingly calloused hands gently working their way over her skin with cold alcohol.

“In distress, you can’t forget that part, it’s important.”

“My apologies,” Abby smirked, sighing slightly as dirt and grime were softly worked from her wounds, “please continue.”

“So as it happens, in her quest across cursed Santa Barbara, the hero ended up caught in a trap.”

“I thought the damsel was supposed to be in distress, not the hero?” Abby asked innocently, looking slyly at the redhead as she rolled her eyes, continuing to work at the blonde’s wounds.

“I’m getting to that. _Anyway_ , so this hero gets yanked up and dangled from a tree by one foot like a useless damn windchime. And if that weren’t insulting enough, she’s _impaled_ by a branch as she’s swinging. Fucking tree.”

Abby frowned but said nothing as Ellie went on.

“At some point, two assholes wandered up and cut our hero down from her stint as a bloody tree pinata. Fortunate for her, not so fortunate for them. As the two assholes talked about asshole things, one nearly shit his pants because he bumped into a clicker that they’d managed to string up. Naturally, our hero was obligated to point out what a little bitch this guy was, because hey, he was a little bitch. Trying to prove that he was tough shit or whatever, he started to shove our hero towards the clicker.”

Abby’s brows raised as she looked over her shoulder at the smaller girl who was still tending to her back. Green eyes glinted mischievously as she smirked back and shrugged.

“Unbeknownst to him, that really wasn’t a big deal for me, I mean, the hero. So, she ran towards the clicker, let it bite her, and then swung the asshole holding her right into it. Instant kill. The other asshole started shooting, but our hero was a badass, remember, so she used the hanging clicker as a shield and used the dead asshole’s gun to shoot the living asshole’s knees out.”

The blonde smiled and let out a breathy chuckle, “That was pretty badass, yeah.”

“I told you so.”

A moment of quiet settled over them as Ellie finished her job on Abby’s back, the only sound in the room being Lev’s soft puffs of sleepy air and the small hiss of alcohol on open wounds. Abby was silent as she considered Ellie’s story, considered the situation they found themselves in, enemies to nurses, and snorted as she sunk deeply into the couch. Ellie, who had put the first aid kit down and settled into a nearby recliner, dragged lazy eyes towards her.

“What?”

“How did the hero’s story end?” Abby asked, curious to see how Ellie would describe “finding the damsel in distress” to kill her turning into “finding and joining the damsel in distress.”

The redhead blinked sleepily but smiled nonetheless.

“The hero fought more assholes and infected before she finally found the damsel in distress. She helped the damsel _out_ of distress, which was weird because for a long time, distress was all she wanted for the damsel. But, when the hero finally saw her again, she realized that she didn’t actually want the damsel to be in distress anymore. She decided she’d like a different ending, so she rewrote it. The hero, the damsel and the, uh, squire, I guess, left cursed Santa Barbara and lived happily ever after, or whatever. The end.”

“Squire?” Abby laughed, blue eyes sparkling with warmth and amusement as she watched the redhead nod slowly, her own green eyes sliding closed. 

“He’s a little too young for Paladin, I think, but we can discuss a different title for him later,” Ellie mumbled with a dismissive and unenergetic wave of her hand. She promptly fell asleep, if her deep, and even breathing was any indication.

As she watched the redhead drifted into sleep, Abby again considered the situation they were in. Enemies who patched each other up and were comfortable enough to fall asleep together. The trust in that simple action was startling, and it shouldn’t have made sense, but it did. The blonde smiled to herself in disbelief as she realized that yes, at least for this moment, she had found peace in the most unusual of places, after the most insane set of events. She had one last humorous and serene thought as her own sleep overtook her.

_With enemies like Ellie, who needed friends, anyway?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo here's the playlist if anyone is interested. I'm sorry about the whole ghosting for months thing. It just be like that sometimes.
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4G6QYi3JTyeLopVhVuXHQo


	5. i'll look after you, and i'll look after you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy folks, sorry if these chapters seem a little short. I'm trying to get back into the flow of writing and short bursts right now seem like the safest bet for me, creatively. Hopefully as this story goes on, I can write in longer increments. Thank you so much for all of your comments and kudos, especially after that long hiatus. They really inspired me to get back to writing! Classes are about to start, so I definitely can't promise any kind of regularity with this, and I have a few ideas for other fics, but this is my priority for sure.   
> I know this world is crazy right now, but I'm sending good vibes to y'all.

Ellie couldn’t remember the last time she had slept so easily, without being afraid of waking up dead.

As she stirred from her perch on the recliner, she blinked the haze from her eyes quickly, glancing towards the couch where Abby had been last night. Some distant part of her almost expected the blonde to be gone, but there she was, awake, though it didn’t seem she had been for long, if her soft yawn was any indication.

An equally distant part of her found that it was…comforting to see the blonde hadn’t left, but the cracks and pops of Abby’s joints as she stretched in the silence disrupted Ellie’s train of thought before she could investigate that sense of relief further.

Dragging her gaze to the other couch where the boy, Lev, had settled in last night, Ellie’s brow furrowed when she took in an empty sofa. Just as she opened her mouth to ask Abby where he’d gone, he appeared in front of Abby, handing her a cup of water before rounding over to Ellie.

“It’s good you two are awake now. It will be nice to hear more than your snores,” Lev quipped drily, offering the redhead a chipped glass of her own.

After draining the glass greedily, she saw Lev make his way back towards the kitchen area.

“Where’d you get the water?”

The tall bar island blocked her view, but the bend of his head towards the counterspace and the shifting of his shoulders told her he was busying his hands with something as he distractedly answered her, “while you two slept, a storm blew through. I collected some of the rain for us.”

Ellie frowned thoughtfully, about to murmur her thanks, before Abby spoke up for the first time.

“Wait, you _snore_?” the blonde asked incredulously, the ghost of a delighted smirk stretching on her face as Ellie scowled at her.

“What? No, _you_ snore so loud, dude. It woke me up a few times. Real rude of you,” she shot back, rolling her eyes as Abby’s grin grew.

“I think you’re confusing me with the storm. It was totally the thunder that woke you up. I don’t snore,” Abby nodded sagely, leaning back into the couch with her arms folded confidently, daring Ellie to challenge her, though the glint in her eyes was far from malicious.

The redhead scoffed, unable to let the blonde have the last word.

“What do you mean ‘ _it was totally the thunder_?’ You didn’t even _know_ there was a storm until he told us! You. Snore.”

Whatever retort Abby had for her, and undoubtably she had one, was cut off by the dark headed boy behind the counter as he glanced up them both from whatever it was he had been focusing on.

“You both snore,” Lev deadpanned.

Ellie might have laughed at the offended noise that Abby let out if she weren’t choking out one of her own.

“Hey!” the blonde exclaimed indignantly, to which Lev only shrugged, unimpressed.

“It’s the truth. I’ve been told it hurts sometimes.”

Abby groaned in defeat, throwing her head back on the spine of the sofa to glance upside down at her ward, “how long have you been up? How long have we been out?”

The boy paused thoughtfully, giving Ellie another opportunity to survey his elegant features and grimace lightly at his ritual scars. From his general appearance, she assumed he hadn’t _physically_ suffered as much at the Rattler camp, stint on the Pillars aside. His cheeks were fuller, his dark eyes were less sunken in, and his collarbones seemed less pronounced under his ratty shirt than did Abby’s, and Ellie suspected it was likely _because_ of Abby that that was the case.

If she had to guess, she would think Abby had tried to protect or shield him from the abuse the best she could before they were tied up and left to die, maybe even pitching him her own food in the process. It’s probably why he was not only less withered than Abby, but also able to recover faster.

It was what Joel would have done, for her.

Green eyes blinked as she zoned back into the conversation, shaking her head lightly in a bid to clear away thoughts of the past, whether it be her own, or the that of the two in front of her.

“--not sure. Long enough for me to bring this in, but not long enough to prepare it,” Lev said, raising a headless, half-defeathered bird over the counter in his fist before setting it back down to continue working.

Ellie let out a low whistle and nodded in approval, “Nice. Do you need any help with that?”

She felt both sets of eyes on her and wondered for a moment if it had been wrong to offer, but then the boy let out a small smile and shook his head softly at her.

“Not right now. Once I start butchering it, though, building a small fire would be good, so we can eat this fresh. I kept some wood dry from the rain in the garage.”

The girls nodded their assent at each other before Abby let out another yawn, louder this time, and Ellie snorted. The blonde shot her a playful dirty look.

“And here I was, about to offer to help you with your bandages.”

“Oh, were you?”

“Yes,” she nodded seriously, “but maybe I should go back to bed. Maybe I’ll wake up and be surrounded by _mature_ individuals.”

She and Ellie stared at one another for a moment, each biting the inside of her cheek to fight a grin. Ellie cracked first, snickering as she grabbed the dusty pillow she’d cuddled up to on the recliner and threw it at the taller girl’s head, “good luck with that!”

Distantly, she heard Lev heave a deep sigh as the pillow connected with Abby’s face and she let out a muffled grunt.

The redhead’s smile was short lived; in her bid to assault the former Wolf, Ellie had twisted a little too sharply, and winced at the pain she felt in her abdomen. Abby, spitting out a dust bunny that had gotten plastered to her lips along with Ellie’s pillow, frowned in concern.

“Let me take a look at it, Ellie.”

She barely hesitated for a moment before she agreed, sliding her shirt up past the wound as Abby kneeled on the ground to assess it more closely. Ellie didn’t look at the wound itself, but instead at the taller girl. Blue eyes flickering quickly underneath furrowed brows, the blonde pressed her lips into a firm line before glancing up at the smaller girl.

“What’s the verdict, doc? Am I going to live?” the redhead joked, watching as Abby’s lips twitched up for a moment.

“Stitches are all still in place, but it looks a little inflamed,” she bit her lip nervously before gesturing back to Ellie’s backpack with a shake of her head, “do you have any pills in there that might help you out with an infection?”

Ellie screwed her face up in protest, “I do, but I try to save those for emergency situations.”

Abby rolled her eyes and went to rummage through the bag anyway, “well, I’m going to go ahead and designate this as an appropriate time to dip into your stash. It might not be an emergency right now, but it’s better not to let it become one, don’t you think?”

Begrudgingly, Ellie agreed, glowering at her feet as she dry swallowed the pills the blonde offered to her. Unfortunately, they didn’t go down easily, and she started hacking and coughing as they grated their way down into her stomach. Thumping at her chest lightly with her fist, the smaller girl looked up to see Abby had walked over with another glass of water for her, an entirely too smug look on her face at Ellie’s ungraceful display.

The redhead sulked, but she accepted the water to ease her raw throat.

“ _Now_ who’s the immature one,” she groused, “I could have _died._ ”

“Neither infected nor bandit asshole could slay the mighty hero, for they did not know her only two weaknesses: trees and antibiotics,” Abby proclaimed, smirking and insufferably pleased with the glare Ellie shot at her. Behind them, Lev glanced confused between the two before shaking his head and continuing to work on his prize.

“Ugh, I don’t have any more pillows to throw.”

“Such a shame. A good adventurer always carries ample ammunition. I thought a great hero would know that.”

“Oh well, at least my last shot was a fabulous one.”

The former wolf grinned at her and gestured towards the staircase that led to the upper floor, “we didn’t really search and pilfer the next level too carefully earlier. Why don’t we go check out the rooms upstairs and see if we can find you something else to throw at me?”

Abby offered a hand to her and Ellie pretended to think it over for a moment, making a great show of humming and twitching her eyebrows before exhaling deeply and taking it. Abby was surprisingly gentle as she helped Ellie up, strong and sure in her movement, but careful not to jostle the smaller girl too much, for which the redhead was thankful.

Ellie could _feel_ the taller girl’s watchful gaze behind her as she eased up the stairs, and knew she was watching for any sign of discomfort or weakness. It was slightly disconcerting, to be cared after by the girl she’d tried twice to kill, even more so than allowing her to see the weakness in the first place. Still, she noted that she didn’t feel tense, or wary, in the presence of the other girl, nor did she feel that she was in any danger. In fact, she noted, as she stumbled slightly on the last step only to be wordlessly caught and readjusted by quick hands, gone as fast as they’d come, she felt at ease.

Lev’s voice called out to them, winding up the stairs in a way that wasn’t urgent or alarming, but gentle and firm.

“I’ll need that fire started in a little over an hour if you want a hot meal tonight.”

As she entered the first room to scavenge, she turned her head to see Abby respond in the affirmative, and for the first time in a long time, Ellie felt some sense of normalcy, some sense of _rightness_.

She felt alive.


	6. it's nice to have a friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, just wanted to let you guys know we're going to be doing some time jumps here and there. As always, thanks for reading, for the kudos and comments. Hope to come up with another chapter soon, but things are going to get a little busy with classes. If you have any ideas for things you'd like to see, let me know, I might just have to write it!

Ellie gave as good as she got.

Obviously, having been at the receiving end of Ellie’s rampaging fury, Abby knew this. Abby fully understood and respected just how capable the immune girl was. She was short and scrawny and the exact opposite picture of what one might imagine a rugged survivor to be, yet she had given the blonde the closest, fiercest fight of her life, after the Rat King. Ellie certainly would never accept defeat, nor would she go down quietly or easily, this much Abby was sure of.

So perhaps it shouldn’t have been surprising how this short, scrawny redhead with a tenacity that seemed too large for her small frame was able to meet her blow for blow in conversation, just as she had in war.

Yes, Ellie gave as good as she got. Every comment, tease, and joke had some answer to it, as sharp as the knife she’d once stabbed the blonde with, as sharp as the green eyes that glinted challengingly up at her as they went back and forth with their harmless barbs. Knowing they were no longer shooting to kill as they once had, there was something soothing and familiar about bouncing her snarky quips off the redhead’s quick, tireless wit. It was…nice to have something easy, something she could do without thought or care.

Back in Seattle, and before that in Salt Lake, Abby had her fair share of diverse friends, good friends that followed her, ultimately, to their deaths when they pushed alongside her to Jackson. Manny had been the funniest, the one most likely to coax a laugh out of her during her periods of relentless, rage fueled training. Nora had been the most thoughtful, the one she could talk to about the books she guiltily read or the too intense feelings she couldn’t stomp out. Jordan had been the asshole of the group, but he had been _their_ asshole, making a strange but fitting match with Leah, who had been the sweetest, taking pictures of them as often as she complimented them. Then there was Mel, and though Abby was never quite sure where to put Mel in her life, she’d always been _in_ it.

And Owen – well. Owen had been different from the rest.

A little bit like everyone, Owen had been so different from the rest, so different for her. He had been bits and pieces of all their friends, yet still, bizarrely, his patchwork quilt personality, stitched together from the best of the Salt Lake Fireflies, had not been enough to warm her against the ice of her anger and grief. He had tried; he had wanted so _badly_ to be enough, and she had wanted it so badly too.

Unfortunately for Owen, she had wanted other things more.

_Retribution painted red by Joel Miller’s blood._

Unfortunately for Abby, he had wanted other things more.

_A simple life with a quiet, uncomplicated Mel._

Abby was far from quiet and uncomplicated then, but now? Now, as she plopped onto what had quickly become her couch with a book she’d scrounged from one of the upstairs bedrooms, she figured quiet and uncomplicated might be exactly what she wanted.

Abby Anderson could not, would not, and did not change for Owen Moore. Maybe she would have been happier if she had, undoubtedly things would be much different and so many of the dead might still be living, but she hadn’t been ready. The blonde spent years infantilized by her consumptive wrath, suspended in the single moment she’d learned her father had died, and no one was strong enough to lift that crushing agony off of her – no one but herself. Older and bloodier, she had finally grown exhausted of her restrictive burden, shedding it to carry things far more valuable: Lev and the prospect of a future, a _real_ future together that didn’t end prematurely in a hail of the pointless bullets of an unnecessary war.

She changed for herself, for more than what Owen had been, and even if it felt almost like a betrayal to think that at first, over time she allowed herself to accept it, because she knew it couldn’t have been any other way. She couldn’t have done it for anything less than enough, less than everything and more.

Glancing up from her book at the house’s other two inhabitants, sitting cross legged on the floor with each other as they lowly discussed and gestured at a collection of comic book cards laid out in front of them, she felt a gentle warmth bloom in her chest.

 _This didn’t feel like less_.

The former Firefly had known that Lev wasn’t less. She’d spent so long by his side, fiercely protective and caring that it was obvious how much he was. What was surprising, however, was the realization that maybe Ellie wasn’t less either.

Ellie, like Owen, was a little bit of everything: little bit of an asshole, little bit sweet, little bit thoughtful, little bit funny. Except, unlike Owen, she wasn’t just a _touch_ of everything, she was _all_ of it. Oddly, it made her feel at home around the other girl; it made someone that should be a stranger feel like an old friend.

Over the couple of weeks that they’d been holed up at the beach house recovering, the scrappy redhead who’d been at the center of all of the blonde’s most awful days had somehow become something like what she’d had before, with her Salt Lake Crew, and yet she was something else entirely. They had had the worst of times together, but now it seemed as if the immune girl was going to headline in the best of times too. She was still skittish and awkward sometimes, distant others, but slowly things were becoming natural. They had avoided any conversation that delved too deeply into their past lives, and for that, Abby was grateful. Healing their physical wounds took enough of their time; they deserved to live in this state of peace for a little longer before dredging up past mistakes and regrets.

As someone who had spent a significant amount of her life picking at old wounds, Abby knew it was for the best. It didn’t prevent her from being curious, of course, but she would be patient. For now, she was content to let things unfold without pressure or interference. Observing Ellie, especially observing how she interacted with Lev, was interesting enough as it was.

It was even more interesting to notice Ellie observing her.

In the first days at the beach house, as they uselessly lied up in the living room to recover, there had been plenty of hesitation between the two, though it was clear neither felt unsafe or paranoid about the other any longer. Abby thought the uncertainty was rooted in the fact that they’d never actually gotten to know each other as people, only as enemies. They were unsure of boundaries, because they’d crossed them all in their war, anyway. They were unsure of intentions, because they’d never had any but to survive before.

Ellie and Abby _understood_ each other, probably in ways no one else could, that much was clear, but they didn’t _know_ each other.

However, sitting in a dark room together, shadows on their faces providing some primal sense of security as Lev ran around outside scouting and gathering for them, they started to fix that.

~*~*~

“Do you think Lev would let me sketch him?” Ellie had asked on the third day, stretched out on the recliner after the boy had left to search the rest of the houses on the beach. At first Abby had been hesitant to let him go alone, but he’d only rolled his eyes (a habit she knew he’d picked up from her) and told her she would only slow him down. The blonde had scoffed, but conceded his point, grumpily settling into the couch next to the redhead.

Abby’s brows rose, not that Ellie could see really see it. The two had found a stash of old candles upstairs, and had lit one on the coffee table, but it wasn’t terribly bright. They had all agreed to not rip off more paneling from the windows for natural light, wanting to avoid possible detection (Abby’s reason), curious wildlife (Lev’s reason), and invading sand particles (Ellie’s reason).

“You’re an artist?”

“Oh yeah. Regular Van Gogh.”

“That so? How’s yellow paint taste, then?”

There was a pause as Ellie hummed thoughtfully. “Better than orange, but not as good as purple.” The blonde exhaled a soft laugh as the smaller girl sighed wistfully. “Truth be told, I’m probably not the best painter. I love it, don’t get me wrong, but I’m better at pencil or charcoal drawings.”

“Hmm,” Abby considered, storing away the fact for later. “Well, I don’t think Lev would mind at all. He might be kind of shy about it at first, but once he’s comfortable that’ll fade.”

“I hope so. He’s got outstanding bone structure.”

“Wait, do I not? Should I be offended you don’t want to sketch _me_?”

“Who said I haven’t?”

Ellie’s words hung in the air for a moment, suspended between them in a way that told Abby this wasn’t a joke, that it led to something heavier than maybe either of them were ready to get into. So, she took a deep breath and switched gears.

“What’s your favorite thing to draw?” she asked, feeling the air lighten in the room.

They talked about art for hours until the candle burnt out.

~*~*~

“This is _really_ good,” Abby praised, hands twitching from resisting the urge to run her fingers along the lines that made up Lev’s portrait. Ellie had asked as soon as Lev had come back, dragging in a bag filled with duct tape, alcohol, and pills. The boy had blushed prettily, before agreeing to sit for Ellie. She’d only needed him to model for an hour, but had spent the next day refining her work, jealously guarding her notebook as she scratched away at it.

She’d only just finished, offering it up so Abby and Lev could see it. She attempted to do so nonchalantly, Abby was sure, but the green eyes flickering quickly between the blonde and the boy betrayed her nervousness.

“I agree,” Lev swallowed, eyes widening at his likeness on paper. The redness that crept up his ears was rivaled only by the matching one that bloomed on Ellie’s neck, and Abby smiled as she watched them exchange shy grins. “I’ve never seen someone draw so well. Thank you.”

“Of course. Thank _you_ for sitting for me. I might have to ask you again sometime if that’s okay?”

Lev nodded slowly, fighting a deeper smile, “Yes.”

“Awesome. For now though, I know just where to put this,” Ellie said conspiratorially, getting up to slap the drawing on the fridge, securing it with a faded magnet. She waggled her eyebrows at it, pleased with herself, and smirked as she made her way back to her recliner.

The blonde didn’t think the boy could get any redder at that point, but as his skin flushed further, he muttered something about going hunting and quickly slipped out of the house, no doubt to save face and regain his composure in the face of such simple affection.

As he slunk out, Abby took the time to gaze at the paper portrait even more fondly. “It’s definitely better than anything I could do. I’m not even sure I’ve ever been able to draw a straight line.”

“It’s not for everyone, I know, but it’s really soothing – helps get my mind off things.”

“I understand that. I usually find that whenever I’m reading.”

“You like reading?” Ellie asked incredulously, very deliberately looking her up and down in disbelief.

“Well, yeah. Some jocks _do_ have brains, you know,” Abby smirked.

Ellie’s answering smile was sarcastically sweet. “None that I’ve ever met.” She let out a laugh as the blonde’s jaw dropped. Abby shot her the stink eye, only for her to laugh harder. Finally, she stopped laughing, sobering herself to turn earnest, interested eyes to the tall girl. “What’re some of your favorite genres?”

They talked about books and literature for hours until the next candle burnt out.

~*~*~

After over a week of jerky and mystery bird, Abby and Ellie were thrilled when Lev came bustling happily into the beach house with a large fish in his small hands.

The two girls, their spirited debate on whether pump action shotguns or double barrel shotguns were superior having been interrupted ( _you of all people have to appreciate the fire rate of a pump shotgun, Abby;_ the double barrel is a classic, Ellie. You can’t beat a classic _; Um, with a pump action, you bet I can)_ , snapped their attention to the grinning boy as he made his way into the kitchen, “I caught a fish today! What did you two do all day?”

Abby’s brow arched amusedly at the subtle but harmless dig. “Contemplated higher philosophy.”

Ellie nodded sagely. “Destroyed Abby’s lesser philosophy.”

The blonde shot a pillow at the redhead’s face, cackling triumphantly at the _oomph_ that followed. Ellie scowled, tossing the pillow back. Abby caught it, grinning in satisfaction. “You can’t even say anything, I learned that from you.”

The immune girl visibly mocked her words, pulling her face up and muttering under her breath.

“I see you both are still quite busy with your philosophy, but if you could afford to take a break, a fire for dinner would be nice,” Lev cut in dryly, jerking his chin over his shoulder to gesture towards the garage where they’d taken to lighting all of their cooking fires.

Inspired by the thought of fresh seafood, the two scrambled to the garage much quicker than they had previously, though if Lev had asked, they both would’ve claimed it was because they were simply feeling faster after their time healing.

After building the fire, the two returned to the living room to continue bickering about gun preferences. Lev blithely made his way to cook the fish he’d prepped, his content whistle drifting around the house behind him.

The blonde found herself smiling; interestingly, her redhead contemporary matched her.

_…_

Abby winced and forced herself to swallow another bite, her fist clenched white-knuckled around her fork as Lev drifted away to put out the garage cooking fire. “I don’t know if I hate fish, or if I hate _this_ fish.”

Ellie choked, coughing up a cluster of fish scales after the blonde rushed over to pound her on the back. Spluttering, she looked up and spoke rapidly but lowly at the blonde. “Abby, we can _never_ tell him. It is most definitely _this_ fish but we can _never_ tell him.”

“I know,” Abby groaned quietly as she plopped back on her couch. “God, I hope he never catches a fish again. Do you think maybe we can poison the ocean?”

The redhead grimaced and shook her head as Lev made his way back into the living room to settle on his loveseat, looking expectantly at them. With great difficulty, Abby feigned enthusiasm and forced the rest of the meal down, knowing with a glance that Ellie was doing the same. Beside them, Lev ate happily, completely unaware.

The two were on cleanup duty as the boy basked in a food coma on the sofa, both incredibly relieved to be rid of the meal’s memory before they settled in for the night.

When Lev brought home another fish the next day, the two exchanged weary, resigned glances.

The three ate together as the light of another candle burnt out.

~*~*~

“Abby, I found Rhode Island. It’s a little worn, but still recognizable,” Lev eagerly pressed a quarter into her palm, watching as she turned it over in her fingers and grinned. It was the third week they had been at the beach house, and while Abby and Ellie had healed quite nicely, they hadn’t allowed themselves to venture further than up and down the beach to recover their strength. Lev had been the only one to leave the immediate area on a supply run, and in addition to the extra backpacks and clothes he had pilfered, he’d managed to snag a coin for her collection.

“Awesome, Lev, thank you! It’s perfect,” she smiled warmly, grateful not just for the gift, but for the boy in front of her. She hugged him quickly, pulling back to take a closer look at the year of the coin.

“Um, am I missing something? We _are_ still in California, right?” Ellie cut in behind them, looking amused but confused at their exchange.

Abby and Lev shared a look before they burst out in laughter.

“Yes, I’m sorry. Lev found a Rhode Island quarter while he was out. I collect them,” Abby explained once she had calmed down. It took only a second for an almost self conscious wave to hit her as she realized that she’d just told Ellie about her silly little habit, collecting worthless coins. She wasn’t allowed to worry too long, however, as a grin spread across Ellie’s face, amused and almost…fond.

“That’s pretty cool. Don’t they have different designs on them depending on the state?”

The blonde grinned, relieved. “They do. Some are kind of simple, but others are pretty intricate.”

“Hmm. I wonder if I could draw them. Blow them up on a bigger scale. Might be a nice challenge.”

Abby nodded enthusiastically, going to pull out the few quarters she’d managed to keep in the Rattler camp and show them to her. _Alabama. Nevada. Indiana._

The three settled into the living room, idly chatting as Ellie began sketching. At some point, she had brought up her own affinity for collecting comic book cards, and Lev had made her promise to show them to him, intrigued by the concept.

They’d run out of candles as the weeks passed by, but they didn’t seem to run out of things to talk about.

~*~*~

That had been yesterday, and today, the blonde turned to look at the fridge, decorated now with Lev’s portrait and large scale copies of her quarter collection and smiled.

Abby closed her book and sidled up next to the two on the ground, scooting up beside Ellie. A look of surprise flickered across their faces, but was gone in an instant as she clapped her hands together. “Alright, so I want in on this action. Tell me about these cards.”

Yes, Ellie still gave as good as she got, but Abby had started to see that as a compliment. Because Ellie was good to Abby, good to Lev, and if that were the case, that meant Abby and Lev were good to Ellie.

_It didn’t feel like less. It felt kind of like everything._

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on tumblr or peruse my queue of extremely gay things @theyearninghours


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